


The Name's Pankratz, Julian Pankratz

by Bouncey



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 007 Jaskier, All Geralt is good for is being pretty and getting tied up, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, And Q was Kinda There, Arm Candy Geralt, Bond Girl Geralt, Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Geralt as Domino Derval, Himbo Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapped Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kissing, M/M, No Geralts were harmed in the making of this crackfic, Secret Agent Jaskier, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, Thunderball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bouncey/pseuds/Bouncey
Summary: “Shut up and dance with me, 007,” Geralt demanded, winking back at the shocked secret agent.“You knew?”“You've done some work with my two brothers. They’ve told me about you in passing but nothing incriminating or important. Don’t worry, Jaskier,” Domino leaned forward to whisper against the shell of 007′s ear. “Your secret is safe with me.”(Jaskier is 007 and Geralt is his hapless, easily-captured Bond Girl)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 123





	The Name's Pankratz, Julian Pankratz

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know what I was doing, either.
> 
> But it turned out kinda fun!
> 
> Should I add more? I think we could all use a little more himbo Geralt in our lives, don't you?

Jaskier was, first and foremost, a man of action. He’d spent all morning with Q and M debriefing in a stuffy unmarked office space uptown and now he’d been set loose on the beach. He was strolling along to look for his current mark, a vile, ruthless middle-aged man named Emilio Valdo. There had been chatter overheard by Her Majesty’s Secret Service and MI6 that Valdo was planning to steal two atomic bombs during a routine training exercise and hold them for ransom (or do far worse). Jaskier had been on the lookout for a heavyset man with salt-and-pepper hair and narrow brown eyes. **  
**

He hadn’t been expecting to see _that_ walking out of the ocean. Jaskier pulled his shades down the bridge of his nose and marveled over the top of them. He watched, entranced, as rivulets of cold salt water made their way down the tight body of Valdo’s current arm-candy, a young man with stunningly white hair and soft honey-gold eyes known only as _Domino_. His real name was Geralt, and Jaskier knew that because M16 knew that, but to the rest of the world he went by Domino and nothing else. 

Domino had clearly been snorkeling. A pair of goggles hung from the hand that rested at his side. The other hand had reached up to wipe some of his sopping, silvery hair out of his eyes and Jaskier blinked appreciatively at the way his arm flexed. Geralt was pale despite the amount of time he undoubtedly spent in the sun and he looked like he’d been carved from Grecian marble. His arms and shoulders were defined, his abs came in neatly packaged groups of two and his _package..._

Jaskier smirked to himself and muttered, “He looks like a fucking Bernini.”

The suave secret agent wandered his way down the beach, appearing as aimless as possible while he made a beeline for Domino. When Jaskier finally reached the water’s edge, he glanced over in feigned surprise (trying desperately to mask his rather legitimate appreciation). Geralt/Domino was wearing a tight pair of pale peach swim shorts with thin white vertical stripes. They were still incredibly wet and stuck to the man's impressive thighs, leaving very little to the imagination (even though Jaskier’s imagination was a wild and lovely place and the sight of Geralt was only making it lovelier).

He flicked his hair out of his eyes and smirked, “Hello, darling. Come here often?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt’s voice was deeper and more gravelly than Jaskier had been expecting and it was _hot_. 

“Know any good places to grab a bite?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I figured. Looking the way you do and all," Jaskier chuckled, "But would you mind letting me know anyway? I just got off my flight and I’m dying for something local.”

“Down the beach a ways. Follow the boardwalk; Vincenzo’s makes great calzones.”

“Thanks uh…”

Geralt looked over at him with soft amber eyes. Jaskier felt something in his huge, romantic heart melt a little. “Domino. You?”

“The name’s Pankratz, Julian Pankratz. You can call me Jaskier.”

“Jaskier,” Domino nodded, smiling a little. “I have the strangest feeling that I’ll be seeing you again.”

* * *

Jaskier made his way out onto the dance floor and slid into the empty space behind Domino. “Hey there, sweet cheeks.”

“Mr. Pankratz,” Geralt smiled. He spun around, pressing their chests together unashamedly. Jaskier slipped his hands around Geralt’s hips and the white-haired beauty fucking _gyrated,_ moving even closer until there was no more space between them. _Feisty,_ Jaskier thought, _I like that in a man._

_“_ Really, call me Jaskier. I insist.”

“Jaskier, then. I told you that I’d see you again.”

“I couldn’t resist. You looked so beautiful, dancing beneath the light of the full moon. Your hair is gorgeous, dear heart, and I couldn't help myself when I saw how soft it looked against your shoulders like that,” Jaskier winked. Geralt blushed lightly and the MI6 agent felt incredibly proud of himself. Despite his beauty, Valdo’s arm-candy was not known to be a talkative person; in fact, he'd been warned not to expect any engagement at all. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re absolutely, heart-breakingly stunning?”

“Perhaps one or two.”

“Well then, I’ll happily be the third.”

“Shut up and dance with me, 007,” Geralt demanded, winking back at the shocked secret agent.

“You _knew_?”

“You've done some work with my two brothers. They’ve told me about you in passing but nothing incriminating or important. Don’t worry, Jaskier,” Domino leaned forward to whisper against the shell of 007′s ear. “Your secret is safe with me.”

* * *

Geralt tugged frantically at the ropes that bound his wrists tightly against the metal supports of the yacht’s small guest bed. He tried to hide his terror with a deep scowl, but even bravado couldn’t stop the blood from gathering behind the skin of his cheeks and flushing him an anxious shade of pink. Despite the icy terror sprinting through his vines and spiking him with adrenaline, the young man spat at his captor and snapped out, “I’m not telling you _shit_ , Valdo.”

“You’ll tell me everything I want to know, Domino,” the mobster asserted. The much older man ran one of his cold, tapered fingers along the side of Geralt’s strong jaw and down his throat to his collarbone. The captive man shivered and pulled away, inadvertently baring his neck. The back of the mafioso's knuckles brushed threateningly over Geralt's windpipe and the captive man's breath stuttered and caught in his chest. Valdo's next murmured words were predatory: “Oh yes, my darling. You’ll tell me absolutely _everything_.”

“I won’t,” Geralt glared, steeling himself. He snapped his head back up and a few strands of his snow-white hair fell into his face. “You can do your worst to me but I’ll never tell you anything that could put my brothers _or_ Jaskier in danger.”

“You underestimate my powers of persuasion,” Valdo purred menacingly. He trailed his sharp nails even further down Geralt’s naked torso and watched with masochistic glee as the young man hissed and tried to twist away. The smirking villain pulled his hand away to snap his fingers and one of his cronies poked their head through the door. “Fetch me a pail of fresh ice.”

“Yessir.”

“Thank you, Carlos.”

Geralt tried not to panic. He’d accidentally overheard several of Valdo’s _business meetings_ (interrogations) during their time together and it was taking all of his willpower not to either pass out from fear or beg for mercy. Not many of Valdo's enemies or "coworkers" made the same mistakes twice. The real problem with this whole situation was that Geralt really _didn’t_ know anything about 007’s secret plans. He wasn’t sure what he could possibly do to convince his ex-lover and current captor of that, though. 

When he heard footsteps along with a gentle _clicking_ coming from the hallway, Geralt knew that Carlos had returned with the ice bucket in tow. The captive gasped and wriggled again, trying his damnedest to squirm out of the mob boss’s reach. He shook his head and started growing short of breath: “Fuck, Valdo, _please_! You love me! I don’t even _know_ anything!”

“It’s too late for pretty begging, pet. I’m sure that idiot spy spilled _some_ kind of information during your…pillow talk. I just want to find out what it was he said to you. Make it easy on both of us, darling, and tell me what he mentioned.”

Carlos entered the room and Geralt clenched his eyes shut, panting in terror and praying that Jaskier would-

“Unhand him!”

_Oh, thank the gods._ He’d know that voice anywhere. Maybe even underwater.

007 was here to rescue him. 

Geralt kept his eyes closed when he heard the first gunshot ring through the lower decks of the _Disco Volante_. He couldn’t bear to see Jaskier die, as selfish as the thought was, and he kept them closed as the fighting continued. There was some scuffling, some crashing, muffled curses being tossed around, and three more gunshots. Then, when it had been silent for just a moment too long, Geralt felt a solid weight pressing against his side. The bound young man blinked his eyes open slowly, settling them on the figure to his left. “J-Jaskier! You’re alive!”

“Did you doubt me, angel?”

“Of course not,” Geralt frowned. “I was just-”

“No worries, darling,” the secret agent winked. “You’re in safe hands once again.”

“Then would you mind freeing _my_ hands, Mr. Secret Agent?”

“Give me a moment,” Jaskier hushed him. 007 let his blue eyes wander appreciatively down Geralt’s bare torso, following every line and dip of the muscles there. He licked his lips and glanced back up to meet the other man’s gaze, “You’re rather lovely, you know.”

Geralt blinked up at him and tried not to let himself blush yet again. "I think you might have told me that once before."

“May I kiss you, Geralt?”

It felt so good to be called by his _real_ name. Geralt surged forward as far as he could with his wrists still bound. “Yes!”

Jaskier cupped the side of his face and leaned forward. “You were so brave, dear heart. I know you were scared but you did so well.”

“I wouldn’t have told him anything.”

“You didn’t have anything to tell him in the first place.”

“Jaskier, _please_ kiss me already.”

“Alright, love. You’ve been awfully helpful, after all.”

Geralt shivered and Jaskiers hand slowly slipped down from his face to rest against his chest. The secret agent leaned forward and gave his new lover a soft and gentle kiss. 

“Now, untie me.”

Jaskier laughed and obliged. “Bossy. I like it.”


End file.
